Stale Coffee
by Imogen74
Summary: So...guess I'm just weak. Can't help it! These guys are just way too much fun. While this story continues along the same vein as the others, it's quite short, perhaps setting up a longer tale?
1. Chapter 1

The day was beautiful, perfect even. John & Mary were in complete astonishment, for London had seen rain for nearly a fortnight without ceasing.  
Inas was readying herself in the pale pink dress the bridesmaids were wearing. She looked lovely, albeit quite different. She gazed at her reflection in the full length mirror. It was a simple frock, flowing & airy. When Inas agreed to be a part of the ceremony, she knew it would involve a color pallet a bit more expansive than her own. She just didn't think it would be quite so...light. Surely dark blue was acceptable for a wedding party. Her dark red locks seemed of particular issue, they simply looked silly. Oh well, I'm not dyeing my hair. Too late, anyway. It'll have to do.  
Inas left the bathroom at 221B smoothing out the dress & looking for the shoes.  
"Sherlock? Have you seen those shoes?"  
Sherlock Holmes was fidgeting with his neck tie. Never one to be overdressed, but always formal nonetheless, he cursed himself for not knowing how to go about it properly.  
John Watson owes him for this.  
"No. No, I haven't seen your blasted shoes. Damn this thing."  
He began to tear it off.  
"Now now, love. Allow me." Inas gingerly took the material & began to weave it in some alien fashion around itself, around her fingers, until a perfect Windsor knot presented itself around the detective's neck. "There. You look smashing. Clean up rather nice." Sherlock smirked.  
"I believe I'll require sunglasses, your dress is so bright. I'm certainly not accustomed to such attire on your person." He paused, & the smirk faded a touch. "I'm always presentable, Inas. I don't know what you are hinting at."  
"No hints. Just a laugh." She started rummaging about again through the mostly tidy flat. It was a chore to keep it so, Sherlock would seldom pick up after himself, despite his (a-hem) girlfriend's many attempts to remind him. Neither of them were all that comfortable with titles yet. When pressed, Inas would call him her "lover," Sherlock would say "domestic partner." Though their happiness during the past year was truly unparalleled, they had ceased to move any further, & the want of a title bothered those close to the couple exceedingly. John Watson in particular.

"I wish I knew how to introduce my best man's lady friend." John was talking to Mary on the phone. "It's ridiculous, how they carry on. I mean, if they don't like attention, then they should stop deliberately drawing it to themselves."  
"Dearest, I don't think it's deliberate. It's not like they run around snogging in public. They are, both of them, interesting people. And famous. Of course they draw attention."  
John didn't care for that response. "Well, anyhow. Nervous?"  
Mary's smile could be heard by John, "Not even slightly. You?"  
"No. No. Just about Sherlock's ability to mind his words during the course of the day."  
"I'm certain that Inas will see to that."  
The betrothed said their goodbyes, & hung up. John peered out of his first floor flat & reflected on his fiancée, his best friend & his best friends girlfriend. If only he could refer to her as such without a barrage of deathly stares assaulting his person.


	2. Chapter 2

The church was lovely. Filled with floral fragrance that threatened to leave some guests faint from their overpowering aroma. Mary was exquisite. John was brilliant & beaming. The bridal party were all a-flutter with happiness for the couple. Sherlock even danced with the maid of honor as per tradition without much fuss.  
At last, all that remained was the obligatory speech from the best man until he could relax next to Inas & enjoy the show that was the wedding spectacle. It was their particular wish to sit & guest gaze, deducing what they could of the varied lives on display. Of course, they didn't tell anyone that that was their design. Inas believed Mary (& John) would disapprove. Sherlock thought they would be too preoccupied to really care.  
"These shoes. How ridiculous. It's no wonder I misplaced them." Inas was examining the pretty pink flats her feet bore.  
"Are they uncomfortable?"  
"Only to my eyes."  
Sherlock didn't answer. He believed Inas was missing the point of the monumental task set before him; to make a witty, heartfelt speech about John & Mary. He wished he had asked her a week ago to simply write it for him. What was he thinking, anyway? He lived with, & copulated regularly with, a world famous poet. Surely she was up to task.  
"Inas?"  
"Yes?"  
"What would you say to writing this speech for me? I'd really rather not, you know. Tedious, tedious chore. This, without a doubt, is your area."  
She had been expecting this, though, admittedly, a tad sooner. Not ten minutes prior to speech delivering. How tiresome he can be.  
"You do realize that you're due any minute now?"  
He nodded.  
"You also understand it won't be my best work. I'll be under duress."  
Another nod coupled with his most sickly sweet smile.  
"John will know I wrote it. Won't that bother you?"  
"Not at all. I dare say he expects it." He looked over at his friend. Yes, he'd be shocked if he didn't ask Inas.  
"Very well. I suppose I could drum something suitable up for you. You really are a pathetic best man."  
Sherlock leaned in & kissed her. "I adore you. Make it good. He is my best friend."


	3. Chapter 3

"I especially enjoyed the bits about being confused for a couple. Did that really happen that often?"  
Sherlock was being assaulted by wedding guests, congratulated on an excellent speech. Heartfelt, witty, completely, astonishingly appropriate.  
"I...thank you. Yes. It was all true. Every word..." He spotted John Watson & made his way over.  
The doctor shook his hand. "How long ago did Inas write that?"  
"About 5 minutes before I delivered it."  
"Excellent. Though I must admit, I'd rather hoped you would have asked her a few days ago, only to ensure that you provided feedback & such. It was to be your speech, mate."  
"Well, I hope Mary enjoyed it at any rate. When do you leave for Paris, again?"  
"Tuesday. Just a few days, we can only afford a few days, really. I should speak with my business parter. I believe it's time I was reviewed for a raise..." John smiled broadly.  
Sherlock returned the smile. As happy as he was for John, much as he wished he could've convinced him never to marry, he also longed to sit with Inas & speak with her about the infuriating day that was over, at long last. He knew John was happy.

Inas was sitting alone, drinking a glass of merlot. She had listened intently to the speech she wrote for Sherlock, & witnessed the aftermath. She sat, smugly observing him as he crossed the room to their table.  
"I told you to run through it once. You muffed up the ending something fierce."  
"I did nothing of the sort. Your sentence structure was confusing."  
"If you disliked it so, then surely you recognize the benefit to reading it aloud first. Had you taken my advice..."  
Her speech was muffled with a kiss from her lover. "I see there is but one way to silence you, & I'm not at all adverse to the notion."  
He sat next to her at their table. He held her hand in his, up to his mouth, as they laughed & carried on, much like children would at such an affair. When they left, not two or three hours into the celebration, no one lamented their departure, not even the happy couple. Everyone agreed that they had had enough to drink & were in dire need of some privacy.

Sherlock opened the door to 221B, & signaled for Inas to go ahead of him. She walked in with her natural grace, & set down the handbag disguised as a feather duster on the table.  
"Remind me to make this into a pillow, would you? It's the only suitable occupation for such a preposterous mess of feathers."  
"I'll do that..."  
Sherlock had stepped in front of Inas...his hands began at her hands, & slowly crept up her arms, stopping at her shoulders. Slowly, he slipped the straps of her delicate pink dress off of her shoulders. They skipped over her scars. They fell, along with the frock, onto the floor. Inas, standing half naked, began to undress him, slowly, making it a ceremonial event. Necktie, shirt, belt, trousers. He lifted her & carried her to the sofa. Not so much with intensity as with tenderness, the pair made love. Inas experiencing oral pleasure at the outset, with the always favorable results.

Though copulation was, as a rule, less intense than Inas had originally experienced with Sherlock, it was always fulfilling. She idly wondered if there was a reason for his always tender method, & noted that she would bring it up in the morning, if only out of curiosity.

"Sherlock?"  
"Hm?"  
They were having coffee after Sherlock, not Inas, had cleaned up the kitchen table.  
"Why are you so gentle when we...well, make love?" She always disliked the terminology. She felt that, in her experience, love was the last thing on anyone's mind while thus engaged, & while it was different with Sherlock, it still felt wrong.  
"Why? I should think its obvious."  
"Not really."  
"Because. I do not wish for you to be...afraid, or nervous. I thought you'd appreciate it if I were...gentle. Seeing as how that was never your experience."  
Oh. He was being considerate. How sweet.  
"Sherlock. That's very...kind."  
"Kind?"  
"Kind."  
"You're saying you dislike my methodology? You wish for something else?"  
"No...but some variety would be lovely."  
Sherlock studied her a moment.  
"How long have we been engaged in this situation?"  
"Engaged...rather odd choice...I dunno. A year, perhaps?"  
"A year." He nodded. "Inas?"  
"Yes?"  
"Are we in love?"  
Inas stared a moment at him. She had not seen this coming at all. She was frozen, unable to form a single thought. "I...I mean...I'm not..."  
"Well. I suppose that answers that."  
"How do you propose that answers anything?"  
"The answer is quite obviously no."  
Inas looked at him. "Sherlock. Are you in love with me?"  
He appeared reluctant to look at her fully. He stood from his position & longed for a cigarette. Sat back down once more. "All of the evidence suggests it."  
He stood again & retreated to the bedroom to change for the day.


	4. Chapter 4

Shit. Inas quickly went to her bag to obtain a much needed cigarette. Shit...what had she done? She was distracted, which was never a pleasant state for the writer. Inas, for all her brilliant imaginative mind, was hardly ever driven to distraction. She felt quite horrible about what had occurred. She needed to think. She also wished to keep Sherlock in the flat, for she was well aware that should he leave, he'd be gone all day, perhaps into the night, & she disliked the notion of being caught up in some silly romantic comedy of errors. She would think, determine her feelings on the matter, & discuss it with him in a civilized, rational way.  
Ok. Examine the situation. She liked the detective very much. He was, for all purposes, her best friend. They shared similar interests, similar language, similar humor. She was attracted to him. She felt safe around him. The thought of not being around him was disquieting. So...where did that leave her?  
Inas knew perfectly well that the tables should be turned in this scenario, which made her smile ever so slightly. She knew that Sherlock would never admit such a thing...ever...unless he absolutely, unequivocally, meant it. It was her turn to be gentle. She felt that, yes, it was likely she was in love with him, but she must pursue the subject with him carefully. He'd been hurt, though he'd deny it emphatically, & he'd doubt her sincerity when she would broach the subject after he emerged from pouting.

It was lucky Inas had recently laundered some clothes & hadn't put them away yet. Though a shower would have been desirable, she couldn't risk him scurrying away whilst she was showering. Instead, she dressed, retrieved her mobile, & began to compose. She found her mind pulsating with inspiration, & her words flowed quite easily. Though as a rule she disliked composing on her phone, her computer was in the bedroom, as was her notebook. She had to settle for what she could, & she would never use Sherlock's laptop. She felt that it would be crossing some line, through she couldn't say why.  
It was a few hours later when he finally decided to quit the bedroom. He went to the kitchen & poured some cold coffee into a mug, found the sugar & finished his prep of the beverage.  
Inas was watching him all the while from underneath her eyelashes. Determined to say something, she looked up. "I can make a fresh pot, if you like."  
"That's not necessary."  
"No." She stood up & went into the kitchen. "No, but desirable all the same. There is little in life more abhorrent than stale coffee."  
"Oh, I'm not so certain. I can think of a few things that would rate as more abhorrent." He sipped his stale coffee, borne of his stubbornness.  
Inas folded her arms, ready to take the offensive, but recalled her mode of operation, & quickly put down her armor.  
"Sherlock."  
He looked at her.  
"I'm...sorry. You took me off guard. I wasn't prepared for your question."  
"I hadn't realized one needed preparation for such a line of questioning. I rather thought that the spontaneity was the point. Of course, I'm practiced but little in these matters, so you may be right. Though you'll be mindful in your resolve, for my inexperience surely warrants mild treatment."  
He was speaking with such sarcasm that Inas could almost taste the bitterness in the air. Or perhaps it was just the stale coffee. Either way, he was most assuredly very hurt, & she would have to tread quite lightly.  
"Of course...but your assumption that I know any more than you is once again faulty. In fact, I'd wager you know quite a bit more, for you were able to ascertain & deduce our situation before I was. You recognized the depth of your feelings (she glanced at him at the word, she knew how it revolted him, & registered a slight scowl) before I. Yet, after some reflection, I can report that I reciprocate what you've unearthed as evidence on the matter."  
"Reciprocate?"  
"Reciprocate."  
"Are you certain?"  
"Quite."  
His countenance softened. He appeared a touch relieved. Inas also felt the bitterness melt, & her shoulders relaxed accordingly.


End file.
